Shades of Grey
by niki-chan2
Summary: She’d always known the difference between good and evil, right and wrong. There was a line, black and white. Until very recently she’d always been aware of where that line was. Lovett one-shot.


**Shades of Grey**  
Not mine.

* * *

Nellie Lovett doesn't like to think about what goes on in the barbershop above her. She chooses to ignore the muffled screams and gurgles of the unlucky few who creak up the stairs but never come down. When she hears the trap door open and that deafening _**crack**_ on the cellar floor, she tells herself it is just the wind.

Later, when she enters the backhouse to tend to the… _ingredients_, she ignores the empty eyes staring back at her, ignores the look of horror etched upon the faces for eternity (or at least until they can no longer be recognized as faces at all). She whistles while she works, pretending they are nothing more than cattle and pigs.

She tells herself she is doing the world a favor. These are evil men, for surely, as her Mr. T always says, all men are. They all deserve to die for some crime or another. She chooses not to think of them as neighbors, brothers, husbands, fathers, sons. Instead she commends herself on how practical she is. Waste not what not and all that. And just think of all the hassle and financial burdens involved with planning a funeral. Really, she's doing all those relatives a favor.

She likes to imagine she is a decent woman. Surely she knows she is far from innocent, but these are desperate times. Desperate measures are called for, just like Mr. T says. Besides, she is simply making the best of the situation before her. She is nothing if not opportunistic.

She doesn't like to think that she is harboring a murderer. She doesn't see him that way. He can't be blamed, really, after all he's been through. After everything the poor man has endured, losing his family, banished to a hellish prison for fifteen years… She imagines if even a kind soul like Benjamin Barker could be so irrevocably damaged, then it's the sort of thing that could be expected from anyone. She doesn't consider seeking vengeance to be wrong. It's in the bible, isn't it? An eye for an eye (she ignores the tiny voice in the back of her mind musing on a world full of blind men).

The real sin, she thinks, would be leaving the poor man to fend for himself. He barely eats or sleeps without her having to remind him. Surely the Christian thing to do would be to watch over the poor dear, make sure he doesn't let his rage _completely_ consume him. She believes that if her being there, all cheerful and the like, helps relieve the gloom in his life if even for a fleeting moment, then she is doing some good.

She tries to ignore the familiar pang in her mind, that nagging feeling that persists in telling her she is fooling herself. The truth is, there was a time when she really and truly believed she was a good woman. She'd always known the difference between good and evil, right and wrong. There was a line, black and white. Until very recently she'd always been aware of where that line was.

She was never a saint, Nellie knows this. But she was a kind wife to her Albert, a loyal friend, and a good Christian (aside from the occasional coveting of her neighbor). She had never harmed a soul. She supposes the same can still be said; technically she isn't harming any _living_ thing. Of course she is arguing semantics with herself, which is a truly pointless venture.

But she _adores_ her dear Mr. T and would do anything (and everything) for him. She puts his needs ahead of hers, holds his desires at the utmost importance. She is driven by the purest and most virtuous of motives; she is driven by love. Surely there is nothing sinful or evil in that, so she uses this as justification for her actions.

This validation is always short lived. The truth is, despite how she tries to manipulate and twist the situation in her mind, she knows what she's doing is wrong. She cannot escape this fact, in spite of her own (seemingly) endless supply of denial. Since the banishment of Benjamin Barker and the subsequent return of Sweeney Todd, Nellie Lovett can no longer define her actions in terms of black and white. The lines have become so blurred she is living in a constant state of grey.

She doesn't look in the mirror anymore; she hates to see what she has become, hates to see the darkness that is slowly consuming her soul. She thinks if she doesn't see it, doesn't offer it any kind of validation, then maybe it doesn't really exist (she knows this is foolish, but it is the only comfort she has). At night she tosses and turns, plagued by nightmares of severed limbs and _delicious_ pies. In the morning she tells Mr. Todd she dreamt only of a life by the sea. She imagines, if he took the time to really listen, he would see through her lies. If he took the time to look, he would notice the circles around her eyes have gotten darker, the lines on her face more prominent. If he listened closely (they way she did when he opened his mouth to speak), he would hear the slightest tremor of guilt in her voice. He never does, of course, which makes lying that much easier.

It isn't really a lie, anyway. She does imagine a life by the sea. During the day, while she serves her customers the remnants of their friends and neighbors, she distracts herself by daydreaming of a new life. Just Mr. T, Toby, and herself. No more pies, no more murders. They will be a proper family, and they will be _good_. They can forget the ugly business of revenge and vengeance and put everything behind them, buried forever in the past.

While she loves her sweet Mr. Todd, he is not the only reason she covets such a life. What she wants desperately (almost as much as she wants him) is to leave this permanent mess of grey. To once again be able to sleep at night, to look in the mirror and not see the blackness in her soul.

Of course, therein lies the problem. She's mixed too much darkness into what was once a world of white. And that's the real trouble. No matter how much white she tries to put back in, she'll never get anything but grey.


End file.
